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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Laura
Zach rang my doorbell the following Friday even earlier than Ihad instructed him.
It surprised me, since Ifully expected him not to show up at all. While the rest of the world considered 7 PM on aFriday night the beginning of the weekend, Zach acted as if it was the middle of aworkday like any other.
But there he was, in the flesh, holding two huge take-out bags. He had changed out of one of the suits he wore to work, opting for dark jeans and alight blue T-shirt that fit snugly around his muscular chest and broad shoulders.
His hair, still damp from arecent shower, turned me on as much as his five o’clock shadow. He flustered me, and Iconsidered slamming the door in his gorgeous face for fear Iwouldn’tbe able to stay far enough away from it.
What stopped me, along with it being rude as fuck and then having to explain this to Olivia, was the shimmer in his eyes. He liked what he saw, or coming here, or both, and it overrode the perpetual exhaustion. Icouldn’tlet him down.
Icouldn’tlet myself down.
Because I’dmissed him, missed his touch, missed being enveloped by him. Missed those things that wouldn’tstep foot past my lips with or without Olivia in the apartment. Ever.
“Ican’ttell you how relieved Iam to spend an evening with an actual adult.” Iwaved him in when Imanaged to tear my eyes from shamelessly ogling him.
“That bad?” he whispered, searching for Olivia as he placed the bags on the kitchen island.
As if on cue, she yelled from her room, “Hey, I’man adult.”
Ireared my head back toward the hall and taunted her, “If you’re not old enough to drink, you’re not old enough for me, period.”
Zach’slips quirked to the side. “Isee Idon’thave exclusivity on bantering with you.”
Olivia sauntered out of the room. “Is this Thor?” she asked, standing next to me. “You’re not blond, like, at all, and your hair is far too short. Why Thor?”
She jumped when Istepped on her foot. “Ouch!”
From the day he called, she’dbeen pestering me with questions about Zach. The clever little woman she was, she didn’tbuy into the private joke excuse and took it upon herself to ask him in person. Our parents would’ve been elated at her devoted research methods.
“His name is Zach. Itold you that already.” Ioffered him aYou know what kids are likelook, then introduced her to him, “Zach this is Olivia.”
“What’sup mini-Laura?” he asked Olivia, ashorter and younger version of me.
“Nothing.” She kept her reply short. Her even shorter attention span drew her to the white paper bags, and she dug in, pulling out box after box of plastic and cardboard food containers.
Olivia blew out along whistle at the tenth one. “Now Iget it. If someone would’ve brought me that much food, I’dalso call him whatever he wanted me to.”
Iloved her confidence. Icringed and loved it. Zach on the other hand, made no move at all, uncharacteristically quiet.
The smell, number of containers, and Olivia’senthusiasm intrigued me and Ibent over to look at the piles of food. Under the see-through lids Ispotted salads, burgers, filet mignon, beef dumplings, and fries—three of each. Oh, and wine. And five glass bottles of different sodas.
“Zach.” Iprocessed the craziness splayed out on the counter, placing my hands on my hips and facing him. “What’sthis?”
Olivia took plates out of the cupboards, piling them in one stack and talking on her way to the living room. “This is what you call dinner! Not another night of noodles or pizza.”
“Olivia…” My cheeks burned from her confession of our crappy daily diet.
After almost aweek of working her butt off, Ichided myself for not treating her to better food myself. She powered through each task and errand, at all hours of the day without complaining, not once. Laundry, coffee, answering calls, and keeping my clients content and satisfied—the works. When we got back from two evening weddings, she stuck by my side until the photos were uploaded to the cloud like Itaught her.
She earned this evening off, and she deserved better nutrition, and Ihad Zach to thank for both.
“She’snot wrong. Ipromised dinner.” He shrugged. “And this place Ilike had aton of options and Ifigured why choose?”
“And we couldn’tshare?” Iglanced at the contents one more time and sure enough, there were three of each.
